Bleach Smell On Hands Dangerous Novels & Stories

It had basic furniture, nothing extra which meant it would be easy to pick up distinct smells. The smell of bleach was strong in the air. What were they cleaning? I let my nose lead me to a spot in the living room. That was where the smell of bleach was strongest. The area was spotless. I could not tell what was there before the bleach. I ran from the living room down into the basement. There could smell blood. Probably belonged to the people being buried right now. I walked around the basement, sniffing on everything, I circled a big wooden box, when it hit me. It was almost gone, but I was sure. Arianna had been around this box, she touched a spot on it.

It’s thick, metallic and then I remember where we are. It clings to the air like a suffocating fog, sinking into my nostrils and coating the back of my throat. I gag on it as bile rises into the back of my mouth. Then I smell bleach mixed in. The tang burns my nose, and for a split second, I can’t tell if the sting in my eyes is from the fumes or the growing panic in my chest. We slept in this. I cleaned the floor last night, scrubbed this spot until my hands were raw, but now the mix of blood and bleach is even worse. It’s foul and chemical, like something rotting beneath sterile lies.

Nearing it to my nose I caught the scent of lilacs. I placed it on my hair, rubbing my scalp. Soapy bubbles fell from my fingertips as the water poured down my head. The ground beneath me showed how dirty I actually was, twigs and brown water going down a silver circle with slits. The last of the bubbles disappeared and I moved onto the next bottle, moving the soap across my body. But then I made a huge mistake. Some of the soap had gotten into my eyes, they burning completely. Was I going blind? O goodness! This was going to make me blind.

Too clean. The scent of bleach hits me first—sharp, chemical, stinging the inside of my nose. Antiseptic lingers heavily behind it, mixing into something cold and clinical. All the blood from earlier? Gone. The mess? Gone. The chaos? Erased so thoroughly you’d think the violence was nothing more than a bad dream. Except it wasn’t. And the two bandaged women in the living room are proof.

But the lemon smell is overpowered by the horrible scent permeating the room. “What’s that awful smell?” I say, waving my hand in front of my nose. “It sucks to have a sensitive wolf nose right about now,” Callan says. “This is bleach. It’s the only thing I could think of to get the bloodstains off the floor.” “Is Ethan okay?” I ask, sitting my backside on one of the chairs. “Other than a bad hangover, he’ll be fine by tomorrow.” Callan grabs a pink-stained towel and wipes the water and bleach from the floor.

I wrinkled my nose, pulling open the washroom cabinet door to get some bleach. Alex sniffed loudly and said, “It doesn’t smell any different than usual. Are you sure you’re not just smelling things?” “No, it’s awful!” I replied. “Cleaning so early in the morning?” Alex’s mom was at the door of our washroom, peeking in as I was pouring bleach into the toilet bowl and getting the cleaning brush out. “Mom, what are you doing in here?” Alex asked. “The door was open. Anyway, it’s not like I haven’t already seen what you two get up to.”

I have never seen this sort of brand before but the scent I perceived after tearing the lead open was heavenly. I pressed my thumb on the top but it refused to work. Apprehensively,I shook the bottle and decided to bust open the lid. Instead, the bottle flew out of my grip and free fall hard on the bathroom floor and spilled everywhere. The watery air freshener began to mix with the little tracks of water that spilled on the floor while I tried to clean up. Then,it began to foam. That was when it dawned on me that the watery air freshener was actually a liquid hand wash.

Blood smears across the carpet, dark streaks that'll never come out. Good thing this place sees worse things than murder. The bathtub is barely big enough, but I manage to fold him inside. His head lolls at an unnatural angle. I turn away, focusing on the next step. Bleach. Lots of it. The motel's supply closet is a joke—just cleaning rags and half-empty bottles. But there's enough bleach to burn away DNA. I pour it over everything: the carpet, the walls, the doorknobs. The chemical smell makes my eyes water.

I demanded, fury in my voice. Jade smirked, holding up a bottle of bleach. The strong, stinging smell hit my nose, and panic shot through me. “Oh no!" I shrieked, feeling the bleach burn my scalp. My hands flew to my head, desperately trying to wipe it away, but the taps in every room I tried were dry. They’d planned this. Minutes and minutes passed as they each blocked my way into every room for about 10 minutes. “Help!” I screamed, running to my room’s bathroom and plunging my head under the faucet. My heart sank as I watched strands of my hair fall out, and my once-brown hair turn a fiery, unnatural red and brown.

"What is that smell?" Usually, if someone stood in front of your bathroom and asked you about a certain smell, it would be best if you shoo that person away. However, that wasn't applicable to this moment now. Kat knew that the stench wasn't from something natural, albeit embarrassing. What she didn't know was how to explain it in such a way that wouldn't come across as suspicious. "Er, it's bleach," she said at last. "I've been . . . mega-cleaning the bathroom."